Getting Used To It
by futotta neko
Summary: Nick comes home all tense. Naturally, Monroe wants to help. No spoilers & assumes an established relationship.


Monroe put down his pivot locator and took a deep breath. He was still getting used to it. Of course, he'd always had an excellent nose, but ever since they started dating his ability to sense the detective had gone through the roof. And through the doors and the windows as well. None of them were hermetically sealed in an old house like his, and the tiniest crevices allowed enough air passage to let him know that Nick was close. As if his brain had developed a special area dedicated solely to recognising his favourite scent. He knew this kind of thing could happen to Blutbaden sometimes, but he'd never experienced it with Angelina or any other previous partners he'd been serious about. Well, maybe he hadn't been all that serious about them after all.

He took off his magnifying eye-glasses and got up, happy to let his clocks rest until tomorrow. Nick did call earlier to warn him he'd be working late, and now it was already half past nine. The poor detective had to be exhausted. Incongruously, the thought made Monroe smile and he felt a little guilty for it, yet being with a tired Nick had undeniably its advantages. A tired Nick was usually less able to resist all the affection that Monroe wanted to lavish on him every single moment that they spent together – but wasn't always allowed to. He had his hands taken away quite a few times during the five weeks they'd been together now, until he learnt his lesson and accepted he couldn't just touch Nick whenever he felt like it. Which was always.

Obviously, the Grimm was still getting used to it himself, to being with a guy. Monroe suspected he probably felt his masculinity threatened by the fact he turned out to be less straight than he'd thought, so it was understandable he didn't want to be all touchy-feely. Outside of bed, at least. However, when Nick was tired, his reservations seemed to dissolve into thin air.

Monroe left his study and was about to go downstairs, but stopped himself mid-way and dashed into the bathroom to check that his hair wasn't a complete mess. He squinted at himself in the mirror, rubbing his cheeks and wondering, as was so often the case, why Nick would want him, and if Nick was just doing him a favour, and whether, maybe, the whole rationale behind their relationship was the simple fact that they were already spending so much time together and none of them had the opportunity to look around much. Because if Nick did look around.. well, he was so handsome, he could have anyone. Though, in all fairness, not anyone would understand who he was and what he was going through day after day. But was that really enough to justify what they were doing here? The clockmaker shook his head and straightened up. No, he would not allow himself any doubts. Nick had doubts, naturally, Monroe knew that, and could hardly blame him. But at least one of them needed to be a hundred percent behind this, or it would never work. And he wanted it to work so badly.

Nick was hanging up his jacket when he felt familiar arms wrap around his waist, startling him for a fraction of a second, but then he relaxed and leaned back into Monroe's chest. For a big, tall guy, the Blutbad's ability to move without a sound was certainly astonishing at times.

"Hey."

Those strong, hairy arms hugged him closer, firmly, almost possessively, and once again Nick could not help but notice that Monroe was warmer than normal people. The first time he realised it he had to think back to that police dog seminar he attended at the academy once, where he was taught that a dog's regular body temperature was higher than that of a human. And he chased the thought away very quickly, because, of course, Monroe was not a dog. Yet part of his nature was certainly canine, though Nick still failed to fully understand how that worked exactly. Well, it didn't really matter. It felt wonderful to be held by someone so warm, and not just from a purely physical point of view.

"Tough day?"

"Yeah."

"Wesen?"

"No actually, just humans being stupid."

"Humans? Being stupid? Difficult to imagine."

Nick laughed, placing his hands on top of Monroe's that were interlocked on his stomach. He wanted to point out how there was no need to be smug since the Blutbad's kind was causing enough havoc in Portland already, but resisted.

"We had a staff shortage at the Traffic Department, so they borrowed us from Homicide. Nothing happens all day, so we're just filing, then just before my shift ends there's this car accident. No big damage done, but one of the drivers went mad, demanded full investigation. Seven witnesses, all telling a different story, two of them drunk, one has dementia, and a teenager, but parents didn't want to give us permission to question him at first.."

He buried his face in his palms.

"So. much. paperwork."

Monroe chuckled, letting his hands slide along Nick's sides and up his back.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day, and no-one even died."

"Hey! I don't actually want people to die", Nick pointed out, and was about to turn around when Monroe gave his shoulders a tentative rub.

"God, you're as tense as this Patricia Highsmith novel I'm reading!"

"Tell me about it", Nick muttered, deciding to stay as he was and closing his eyes as those skilled clockmaker fingers kneaded the stiff muscles below his neck, with just the right amount of pressure. "Mmh."

He let his head drop forward to give Monroe more space.

"I could get used to coming home like that."

The Blutbad smiled, pressing his nose into the back of Nick's head, where his smell was particularly sweet. Home. And they weren't even living together yet, of course not. Not after five weeks. Well, officially at least. Officially, Nick still had his flat near the police headquarters and visited it every so often in order to keep up appearances. But truth was, he was mostly using it for storage and hardly spent an hour there at a time. Certainly not a night.

"Come on", Monroe let go of his boyfriend's shoulders, earning a sound of protest, and took his hand instead. "We'll do this properly. Then we eat."

He pulled him up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Let me get this off you."

Nick did not protest when Monroe occupied himself with the buttons on his shirt. He was actually quite enjoying this, being undressed without even getting asked his opinion.

"Now lie down on your front."

He already had to make enough decisions in his job, and no-one could take those off him.

Nick gave a contented sigh when Monroe's weight sank down onto his thighs, and a second later two big, steady hands started to stroke down his back, slowly at first, but with gradually increasing pressure, spreading massage oil on his skin. Or, maybe, lube? The detective wasn't sure what the Blutbad was using, but it certainly felt terrific. Monroe had such talented hands, so good at all kinds of tasks, cooking and DIY, and handling the tiniest, most delicate tools. And less tiny ones as well, as Nick found out once they started dating, which really wasn't that long ago, yet already felt like ages. But massage, that was new.

"Hm", the Grimm buried his face in the pillow, "if I'd known you're so good at this.. I would've asked you to rub my back before, you know.. when we were mates."

Monroe laughed as he occupied himself with a particularly nasty knot on the detective's right shoulder, earning a groan, yet the pain was not at all unpleasant

"That would've been awkward, Nick. Don't think I'm a random massages kind of guy."

"Would've been just a friendly gesture.."

"Really."

Monroe reached around to unbutton the young man's jeans, pulling them down just an inch or two, and Nick melted into the sensation of warm fingers on the small of his back. Monroe's touch was addictive, to the point that, paradoxically, the detective tried to avoid it at times, just to spare himself the embarrassment of enjoying it so very much. Especially in light of all those times he assured the clockmaker that he was not at allattracted to men, and that they could never be more than best friends, which was after Monroe first admitted his feelings, and before, somehow, utterly inexplicably.. this happened.

And now all the tension in his body was dissolving under Monroe's skillful ministrations, and Nick could feel his blood flow much faster. And not only in his back.

But just as he was beginning to really, really enjoy this, in more than one way, Monroe stopped and took his hands away.

"Better?"

The detective mumbled something incoherent, but clearly disappointed, turning around; Monroe had lifted his hips just enough to allow him to do so.

"Not yet!"

The Blutbad shrugged.

"Well, let's get some dinner into you. I've dug out a good bottle to go with it too. 1984. Excellent vintage."

Nick squinted up at him, struggling to return to reality after losing himself in Monroe's touch.

"What? You're just gonna leave it at that?"

He was pretty sure that where the Blutbad was straddling him he had to be aware that food was not what Nick was hungry for right now. Yet Monroe seemed to be ignoring it, grinning down at him instead.

"Hey man, you said massage is just friendly."

"Would have been", Nick corrected him, reaching out and resolutely pulling him down by his collar until their noses were touching. "I said, would have been friendly."

Monroe suddenly realised he was yet to kiss Nick this evening. He leaned in to correct the oversight as the detective started to unbutton his flannel shirt.

"Thought you're tired."

"Exhausted."

"And hungry?"

"Starving."

Nick sank his hands into thick chest hair, feeling the Blutbad's beard rub against his lips and chin as their kisses grew harder and more passionate. This was still a little strange. Still different.

But he was getting used to it, leaning back as Monroe kissed down his chest and stomach, licking his skin with such dedication as if actually planning to eat him alive. And still, Nick trusted his friend completely, almost more than he trusted himself, which surprised him. Growing up thinking that both his parents had died and abandoned him forever he really wasn't the most trusting person in the world. And yet, he had put his aunt's life into the Blutbad's hands only days after they met. He'd already known back then that what they had was something special. Only he didn't realise how special.

Nick held his breath as Monroe pulled down his jeans, effortlessly, as they were already undone, followed by his underwear. He didn't mind wearing nothing but socks while the clockmaker was still mostly dressed. Nick had always felt comfortable around him, and now he was learning to be comfortable around him naked.

"So, I see you really enjoyed the massage."

The detective smiled.

"What gives it away?"

Monroe wrapped a hand around him.

"Just a hunch."

Quickly, Nick pulled the pillow from underneath his head and pressed it to his face, just in time to stifle a moan as the clockmaker started to suck, pushing a long, oiled-up finger into him at the same time. The detective had yet to come to terms with the kind of noises Monroe was able to elicit from him. He had never been so vocal in bed, not with girls. The Blutbad just seemed to know exactly what he liked, and how he wanted to be touched. It was almost uncanny. And just what he was craving after a long day at work. With Monroe, he could let himself fall completely, without worrying about having to perform. He knew the clockmaker would make sure they both got what they needed.

There was a short break, and then Nick felt confident hands lifting his hips and pulling them onto Monroe's lap. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the pain. It always hurt, at least in the beginning, and Nick wondered whether they would ever get to a point where it didn't, considering the Blutbad's anatomy. The first time it was a shock to his system and he could hardly believe he was actually letting a guy do this to him. But now Nick knew that what followed would make up for the embarrassment and the initial discomfort a million times.

He relaxed, allowing Monroe to slide into him, slowly and carefully, before the pillow was removed from his face and replaced with hot, determined lips, kissing him deeply as the Blutbad started to move inside him. He got the angle right straight away, and already Nick felt grateful that his mouth was occupied with Monroe's tongue, or otherwise it would not be long until he would want to scream with pleasure, heat spreading through his body like wildfire and overwhelming him. How could anything in the world feel this good? How could he be so close already? Nick made a mental note to be using massage as foreplay more often in future, before all of his thoughts were burned out by the dazzling, white-hot thrill of Monroe's thrusts in him, and Monroe's fingers stroking him in rhythm with them. He clenched his hands around the clockmaker's neck, pulling him closer and pressing his wet forehead into Monroe's shoulder as that bolt of electricity shot through him and sent him flying.

A few seconds later Nick's arms were lying limply by his sides as he was enjoying the afterglow, reveling in the feeling of Monroe now using his body for his own pleasure, which was surprisingly hot, and would have probably been enough to make him want to do it all over again, were he not utterly exhausted. He opened his eyes, staring into the deep red orbs glowing down at him, hungry and wild and almost unbearably intense. Monroe gave a deep growl, burying his face into Nick's and only barely managing to stop himself from woging completely as he came. He still had to learn to control himself better. Though Nick seemed to be getting used to it.

They lied still for a while, wrapped into the delicious warmth of unadulterated intimacy, before Monroe nuzzled Nick's neck, kissing the sweat off his skin.

"Well.. that was.. unexpected."

The Grimm made an infinitely satisfied little sound as he wrapped his arms around Monroe's broad shoulders.

"Now, food first.. or shower first?"

"Food", Nick mumbled, suddenly realising that he was almost dying of hunger. And also, he was pretty sure that the Blutbad actually preferred him unwashed. "What's for dinner?"

"I made you a lamb tagine. Though maybe it's a bit late to eat something so heav-"

"Not too late!" Nick protested, smiling and hugging Monroe closer. Most days they had vegetarian dinners together, but from time to time the clockmaker did cook a meat dish just for him, and the detective was surprised how good it always turned out, considering that Monroe was not able to taste it. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know Nick. Be tense, hungry and sexually frustrated?"

Nick chuckled, grateful for the light-hearted comment as he realised how much what he just said had sounded like 'I love you', and it was way too early for that. Though Monroe did not seem to think so, and told him every day, at least once. Just as he did now, whispering the words into his ear, but not allowing him the time to start feeling guilty that he wasn't quite ready to say them back yet.

"Come on, let's feed you."


End file.
